Still
by Annjul414
Summary: After the events at the non-wedding, Quinn returns to Yale. It takes her days to confront her feelings. Because what mind does not know, heart keeps remembering. Canon till 4x14, "I Do." Turned into a series of mini-shots.
1. Still

A/N: I had this wonderful idea to write a collection of one-shots, but I think I am no good for longer works. I tried writing many times in the past, but it usually ends after few sentences or I am done after one chapter. I have so many stories in my head but writing them down is kinda difficult (please do mind that English is obviously not my native language). Anyway, I gave up on multichaptered fics.

This one is just a short story inspired by music, maybe will turn into a collection of mini shots, because I love quinntana way too much and I miss them terribly. Somewhat melancholic and cool, because it's Quinn's POV and the song itself is rather bitter.

Not being very original here with the "I do" episode, but I believe that it is justified to start post 4x14, because of its great significance (a.k.a. life-changing experience). I changed a little bit what happened in the reception and after, though. I wanted to give this one a specific mood but I am unsure whether it turned out good. While it is rather short, it was challenging to write.

Disclaimer: Glee and its characters are not mine. If it was, Quinn would be in every damn episode. I do not own the beautiful song "Still" either, it belongs to Matt Nathanson.

* * *

It had been almost two weeks since the wedding-that-wasn't and with every day passing by, Quinn Fabray was feeling more and more anxious. Despite the fact that Yale was keeping her busy, she caught herself ruminating way too often. And her thoughts always went back to the night of February 14th and one Santana Lopez.

Now, sitting in her dorm room at evening over some drama book, she could not help but reflect on the relationship with her best friend who happened to be also her greatest enemy.

To say that their history was complicated was an understatement. High school drama successfully twisted their freshman friendship into endless rivalry for popularity, boys, grades, appearance, and social status. With equal ferocity, they pushed each other beyond limits, both too proud and strong-willed to turn the other cheek. Insults and silent glares replaced sleepovers and walks through the corridors. The promise to rule the school together was left forgotten in the drawer with photos from summer cheerio camps.

In spite of it all, Quinn never hated Santana, nor did she believe that the other girl hated her. New relationships drew them away but the connection remained. There was always the air of respect between them, an unspoken agreement to prevail together, whether it was demonstrated in slapfests or song performances. Quinn was the HBIC, but not for a second she doubted that she shared this spot with her brunette frienemy.

Santana was the only one who challenged Quinn in every way, the only one who even dared to do that. The Latina never fell for any of her acts and sometimes it scared Quinn how similar they were in their contrasting ways. Fire and ice, yin and yang, light and dark, sun and moon.

In all the differences, they both understood each other and knew themselves better than the rest. But most importantly, Santana was always there. In sloppy text messages, disappointed looks, brief touches, withheld smiles. And with everything that happened between them, Quinn knew that Santana was her homegirl, as she was hers. Even if she only experienced the Latina the way like everyone else ever experienced her, except for Brittany.

Brittany – immature, simple-minded, carefree, now ex-girlfriend was the only one who underwent Santana's gentle and loving side. The side that Quinn only witnessed as cheerios became practically joined by the hip. This was a matter that made her envious, and she tried to shake off this feeling every time she saw Santana smiling fondly at the other blonde. She never admitted to herself the fact that being replaced hurt. And that was how she felt through entire high school.

But then Mr. Shue's non-wedding took place and Quinn did not know Santana anymore as she used to. For once, since their relationship fall-out, she enjoyed her company and witty remarks. They were no longer stuck in Lima, they had no need to quarrel, and Yale Quinn was more confident and lighthearted to actually loosen up a bit. Especially with New York Santana, who was not McKinley High Santana or random plus-one stranger. She did decide to drink and dance because she felt like it, after having spent few stressful months in college. What, however, she did not foresee was to end up pinned under Santana on bed, after night of heated glances and tender caresses. But Santana was looking exceptionally good and was giving her this look which overthrew Quinn's calm rationality, already strained by the alcohol. She went along with what was unconsciously happening between them through the reception, considering it initially as innocent fun. However, as soon as Santana's lips met hers yet in elevator, drollery of the situation vanished. Quinn expected the Latina's sensuality to be rough and aggressive as her character, but the brunette moved her mouth against hers in kisses full of tenderness and affection. Despite the gentleness that Santana displayed, there was a hidden passion behind every touch, which sent shivers down the blonde's spine.

Everything in that moment felt undeniably right and before she truly comprehended the situation, she was already guiding Santana through the hotel room, their lips connected. There was a hint of hesitation in the Latina's actions which Quinn recognized in the brunette's chocolate orbs as a silent question rather than reluctance. The blonde recalled her own sheepish smile and removal of the jacket in the role of answer, which caused the tan-skinned girl to smile herself, before reattaching their lips once more.

Quinn evoked with blush how effortless it was to be with the other girl, who acknowledged the blonde's inexperience without any malicious commentary or harsh behavior. Originally, she assumed that Santana would treat her as a diverting rebound of the ex-girlfriend, yet everything in her demeanor said otherwise. The dark-haired girl was almost sluggish in her actions, allowing Quinn to be in control, which was remarkably contradictory to her dominant attitude. With every stroke of the fingers, deep kiss, lingering glance, soft sound, and placid touch Santana appeared to be expressing her tacit care, leaving Quinn breathless from all sensations. It had been days, yet she still vividly remembered tangled hair, entwined bodies, flushed skin, slick fingers, swollen lips, scratching nails, and a collection of moans, sighs, whispers, groans, gasps, and pants. The memory itself made her body burn with warmth and caused pleasant throbbing in her core.

The pale-skinned girl looked at the book lying before her, pages untouched. She sighed closing it, with awareness that she would not be able to finish even a chapter. Seizing the opportunity of her absent roommate, Quinn stood by the window, examining in silence the post-winter view on the campus and felt herself relax from the rush of emotions that recently were overwhelming her whenever she thought of Santana.

Since the fiasco of a wedding, something has changed. There was something different that Quinn could not quite put her finger on.

The blonde caught herself unintentionally noticing the brunette in her surroundings. She was reminded of Santana by the color of morning coffee, the warmth of the sun, the Adele song in the common room, the runners on the track, the overheard Spanish in the hallways.

Her phone buzzed, and ironically there was a text from the tanned girl. They began exchanging short messages for some time now, and there was something different about those chats as well. They talked about trivial matters, daily routines, roommates, classes, but every time Santana's name popped up randomly on the blonde's cell phone, she could almost feel the tension, despite the distance between them. When joking advanced on the edge of flirting, she felt as nervous and shy as excited and bold. Quinn could not make any sense of her reactions and it bothered her. These were simple texts, but she overanalyzed them only to uncover that Santana acted as unusual as her. She seemed more bashful and polite, which Quinn found puzzling, yet flattering. It reminded her again of the Valentine's Day, when their eyes locked in one of many passionate glances and Quinn was bewildered by the expression in those warm brown eyes. Nobody ever looked at her in such intense way. Nobody ever made her feel so special just by gazing.

There was this feeling again. Was this… longing? The last time Quinn felt something similar was when she struggled with the idea of losing her daughter permanently, in the senior year. Now it was stronger, more persistent, wistful, aching. And unconditionally maddening.

Naturally, she tried to dismiss this peculiar emotion but with every passing day, it grew relentless. It was a very-Lucy way to avoid difficult situations by running away from them. Yale Quinn assured herself too many times that she would never be that person again.

It was a Friday afternoon when she finished her classes and returned to the dorm for a quick lunch and break with a book. Her reading was disturbed by soft vibrations of her phone which unsurprisingly turned out to be an incredibly sweet message from Santana. Another one. Quinn audibly inhaled.

She needed to see her. After weeks of suppressed yearning, she had to look her in the eyes and hear her unforgettable, raspy voice. It was such an extreme urge that Quinn decided to do something quite against her typical common sense. She grabbed few clothes and needed cosmetics, packed everything in a small luggage, checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror, and left in a hurry to catch the first train to New York.

Observing through the window changing landscapes, Quinn was wondering whether it was a good idea. As much as she wanted to finally see the brunette face to face, she did not know what to say to her. She was very puzzled about the whole situation, yet deep down felt that the visit was a right thing to do. It could shed some light on her feelings as well as on Santana's. It could clear the air and solve the unspoken confusion between them.

The blonde thoughtfully touched her lower lip, feeling it tingle at the thought of the other girl. She closed her hazel eyes and leant back in the seat, speculating whether the Latina was driven wild by those Valentine memories too.

After two-hour distressing ride, Quinn finally was walking down the street in Bushwick, not feeling confident in the slightest. Her entire life revolved around careful planning, nevertheless, fate always found the way to surprise her. This time, she was surprising herself. Having walked an excessive amount of stairs to get to the apartment, she managed to steady her breath. With few hair-sweeps and shakes of her head, Quinn knocked softly on the door, preventing herself from turning around and fleeing. Million thoughts ran through her head while she was waiting in anticipation for any kind of answer, most of them scolding her for not checking ahead whether anybody was home. Soon after she heard the footsteps and quiet muttering. Quinn used all the acting skills and put on her best composed face, just as the door in front of her slid with heavy sound.

Her eyes met the deep chestnut ones and Quinn's self-composure suddenly vanished. As suspected, it was not Rachel Berry or Kurt Hummel who answered the door, but a very disoriented-looking Santana Lopez. Her facial expression was changing swiftly from annoyed to shocked, distracted, ecstatic, shy, and ultimately settled on pleased. Quinn still stood motionlessly on the threshold, sending the other girl a little smile.

"Hi." She whispered in a breathy manner, after seconds of silence. Santana shook her head, waking from the trance.

"Hey." The brunette answered in the doorway, her hand clutched on the handle. Quinn sent a quick glance at room behind Santana, before looking back at the Latina.

"Will you let me in?" she asked with another hesitant smile.

"Uhm, sure. Sorry." Santana added quickly and allowed Quinn to enter. The blonde took her hand luggage and walked across the common room to stand near the kitchen. She laid her things on the floor to look once more at her friend, who was still standing awkwardly by the door. Quinn studied her briefly, the dark haired that cascaded freely in messy curls framing her round face, the black top which barely covered those touchable abs, the impossible tight jeans emphasizing her long shaped legs.

The blonde took few steps in Santana's direction and leant for a hug, visibly relaxing when the brunette's arms and exotic scent embraced her. The Latina was looking at her with peculiar expression, which made Quinn's cheeks redden. The blonde bit her lower lip and adverted eyes for a second. She looked around the apartment, noticing the absence of Santana's roommates.

"Where i-is Rachel and K-kurt?" she stumbled over words, avoiding the gaze of the tanned girl.

"Berry is still prima donning at NYADA and Lady Hummel is probably out with his musical gay buddies. They will be back around late evening." Santana replied without annoyance in her smooth voice. Upon hearing the news, Quinn all of a sudden got more nervous with Santana standing so close to her.

Silence filled the apartment as both ex-cheerios were watching each other in stagnation. The blonde raised an eyebrow.

"Are you not going to ask me what I am doing here?" Quinn wanted to put the tension behind her, and deal with the situation directly. There was no need to formulate excuses when she sensed that everything about her screamed of what she is feeling and thinking.

Santana was still searching her eyes but her facial expression turned into the gentle one. And she had this look, very similar to the one she was giving Quinn between kisses in the hotel room. The blonde was pondering if Santana knew what exactly she was doing to her with that stare.

"I wanted to. But to be honest, I don't care anymore. I am just g-glad to see you. Unexpectedly or not." Santana responded in low tone and pointed at the couch to sit down.

For the first time, Quinn was indeed hoping that Santana could read her with ease. She was hoping that she would not have to actually say out loud that, in all of its ridiculousness, she was unable to stop thinking about the Latina since the reception night. That she still felt the ghost of her lips on her own. That she was preposterously influenced by her glare. That she spent unhealthy amount of time interpreting their text messages. That she felt special with her.

She was hoping that whatever was happening between them was beyond sexual level. She was hoping that the other girl knew. She was hoping that she understood. Above all, she was hoping that Santana felt the same.

"I came to see you." Quinn stated the obvious, making the brunette smile in a genuine way. They were sitting closely, facing each other, knees brushing, and with every limited touch Quinn felt sparks.

"I kinda hoped you would say that." Came the reply, and Santana started playing with her fingers. "You saved me all the trouble from going to New Haven myself. I was on the point of leaving, in fact. If you had come sooner, we would have missed each other." She continued, fixing her eyes on the floor. Quinn started chewing on lip in attempt to suppress the growing grin, her cheeks scarlet.

"Am I to understand that you wanted to see me as well?" the blonde asked huskily, feeling the insecurities clouding her mind. She had been the second choice too many times.

Santana nodded her head. "Wanted may be a little inaccurate word, according to the certain aggravating fairy queens, but yeah."

"I missed you." Quinn gave away with no hesitancy. The Latina looked up at her, a little smile playing on her lips.

"I missed you too." She answered, taking gently Quinn's hands in her own and placing them on her lap. The blonde's features split into a smile so bright that she felt her face might crack in any moment. Santana carried on. "I don't know anything. I mean… I don't know how to do this. I don't know what this is or what it means. I don't know how to behave around you. I don't know if this is smart." She paused, examining the other girl's eyes. "I don't think so."

Quinn felt a pang in her heart, momentarily pulling her hands away in defense. Santana grasped them tighter, her gaze never leaving the blonde. "Wait. I'm not finished." She sighed, closing her eyes for a second before looking back at Quinn who had a wary expression.

"This is not smart at all because it is us we are talking about. We don't do nice and fluffy. We are not easy to handle, and definitely we are not the first to forgive. Still…" she halted to smile. "When anything involving us was smart? Somehow, we are good together. Somehow, we get each other. Somehow, after everything we went through, we are still friends. And even if I rarely show it, you mean more to me than you will ever know." She added with a shy grin on her lips. Quinn found herself speechless at Santana's declaration.

"I… the feeling is mutual." She stuttered without longer commentary, being aware that her eyes spoke everything she was unable to.

Both girls fell silent, reflecting upon the moment. Santana looked down at their clasped hands, her soft whisper floating in the air. "Are you sure you don't want to be right now in some fancy restaurant alongside a loaded stuck-up Yale boy, wrapped around your finger?"

Quinn lifted the corner of her mouth in comprehension.

"I am here, aren't I? Unless you are that boy, then no."

The brunette turned unusually quiet. She was staring into the space in front of her, deep in thought. The Yale girl spoke again. "I realize that it is pretty much contradictory to everything we used to be, and it will be difficult, to put it lightly. But I want to give it a try. I want to take this chance, nonetheless." She declared, glancing at the Latina under her eyelashes. "You… you are –"

"– driving me wild." Santana finished her confession with the exhale. "You always did." She faced Quinn once more, brown eyes full of realization.

The air around them hummed with tensity. The light-haired girl looked deeply into those dark orbs, trying to interpret their expression. Quinn learnt in high school that Santana, similarly to her, frequently hid her emotions. She smiled to herself, evoking from the memory every look that the brunette had given her in the last couple of weeks.

"Do you remember what I said about us at the reception?" She asked, lifting her head confidently.

"That we were flawless?" Santana remarked, smirk fixed on her face. Quinn entwined their fingers, her hazel eyes locked with the auburn ones.

"We could be flawless together."


	2. My Girl Tonight

**A/N:** I know, I know… but this just happened. I was bored. *shrugs* and quite sad, seeing all over the internet news about "brittana reunion for 100th". So I had to relieve a little.  
It might be the collection of one-shots now. I will try to preserve this in the mood of the first "chapter", just focusing on those little emotional moments between those two (a bit OCC but who cares). Updates will be very random, if at all. I have two bigger quinntana projects coming up that I want to write, different from this one. So, this time Santana's POV. All mistakes mine.  
In addition, huge thanks for the followings and reviews. You are awesome. You keep me going. Happy New Year, btw.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Glee belongs to RIB and FOX, the breathtaking song "_My Girl Tonight_" is Jon McLaughlin's (best love songwriter ever?) and "We've Got Tonite" is Barry Manilow's.

* * *

_3 years later…_

It was a cold 14th of February in New York, although snowless and full of sun. Santana smiled to herself, watching the foggy clouds swim lazily on the blue sky. It looked like a perfect day. The city was buzzing with its usual energy and rush, overcrowded streets radiated with colors, the air was filled with a symphony of urban sounds. There was nothing out of the typical order, yet, everything to her felt different.  
Standing at the window, Santana glanced restlessly at the clock in her studio. It was an early afternoon and soon she could leave, hurrying to the apartment and start making preparations for the evening. She expected Quinn to finish her photography classes around five, giving the brunette enough time to clean a little bit, make dinner, prepare the set of music and movies for the night, as well as freshen up.

The tanned girl felt extremely grateful for having loose schedule these days. Along with the music classes she was completing this year, her work for the record label was rather limited and still insecure, allowing her to enjoy more free time than her girlfriend.  
Despite the fact that Quinn graduated Yale about a year before, she engrossed in various activities immediately after moving in with Santana to their flat in Chelsea, last summer. The blonde effortlessly got a position in an aspiring publishing house and picked up additional courses on visual arts which were her newly discovered passion. As much as Santana loved music and her job, she had a few moments of utter aversion to any kind of work. Quinn, on the other hand, never did. Beyond her indubitable ambition, the light-haired girl possessed an outstanding spirit which the Latina came around to love.

The apartment was located quite close to the Santana's recent workroom, and after half an hour she was already crossing the doorstep with grocery bags. In no time she got occupied by rearranging the place for the date, something which she used to hate doing while she lived with her old roommates, Rachel and Kurt. However, in the past few months living with Quinn, she ceased to mind housework. She blamed it on the blonde's appreciation of neatness.

The cold temperature was successfully preventing them from having dinner on the small balcony, thus Santana decided to move the table to the glass walls of terrace, granting them a view on the city without leaving the room. After the two hours of commotion around the flat, the brunette considered her work finished. The table was set, the candles were placed in various places, the playlist was ready to play, the DVD collection was organized, and the meal was almost prepared. Santana would deny in a heartbeat being romantic, yet, deep inside she was fond of doing chivalrous acts, especially when it earned her the sweetest smiles from Quinn. The date evenings on Valentine's Day were their "thing". Instead of going out like the other couples did, girls came to agreement to spend this day indoors, enjoying themselves in silence and privacy.

Santana took a quick shower and put an exceptional amount of effort to look better than usually. She swept her elegant, long curls on the side, and applied some mascara along with mild lipstick to keep it simple and natural. For the first time she had no problems with the choice of wardrobe, having bought the clothes specifically for this evening. It was a sleeveless, knee-long black dress, loose around the legs but tight in all the right chest places, with a deep cut revealing the back. She chose matching pair of high heels and jewelry, and observed the final results in the bedroom mirror.  
Not long after, she heard the doors of the apartment clattering, only to reveal flustered Quinn carrying her wide packed portfolio.  
"San, you home?" she asked, placing the things on the counter.

"Take a look around." Santana replied, standing in the doorway. The blonde took off the winter clothes and absorbed the changes in the apartment.

"You shouldn't have. We could have done it together, like usual." Quinn responded with emotion in her soft voice, ultimately setting hazel eyes on Santana. The brunette felt her heart skip a beat, wondering why after all this time it still happened. She felt her cheeks burn under the admiring gaze of her girlfriend.

"I wanted to. What do you think?"

"It's perfect. You're perfect." The blonde stated taking a few steps forward, her eyes not leaving Santana's.

"Thank you," she smiled and kissed Quinn softly on the lips. "Go change, the food is practically ready." With a squeeze of a hand, the pale girl made her way to the bathroom, every step traced by the brown eyes.

Santana sighed and returned to cooking, ignoring the racing heart. Having placed precisely everything, she plugged her iPod to the set of speakers and lit the candles, making the apartment dim and warm. It was already dark outside, the city lights glimmered on the horizon.

"I love it. The restaurants have nothing on you." She got startled by the sudden voice behind her.

"That was the goal." The brunette turned around and very nearly crashed into smiling Quinn. She felt herself out of breath, taking in the blonde's appearance. Santana constantly adored the gorgeous look her girlfriend could offhandedly pull off, but in that moment she was remarkably exquisite. Her golden hair was pulled up, exposing the neck adorned with silver necklace. The dark-green dress with wide cleavage brought out her eyes, accentuated by the eyeliner. Her pale cheeks were gently powdered and rose lips glistened in the faint lightning.

"I believe you like my new dress." Quinn said, searching Santana's eyes.

"You know I do." Communication without words was always the feature of their relationship.

They sat opposite at the table and enjoyed the dinner, talking about the latest activities and exchanging gossips. Santana very quickly forgot about her nervousness, captivated by Quinn's beauty and voice, overwhelmed with affection and longing. Time passed rapidly, and after a few sips of red wine, the Latina stood up to play the music. With the first piano notes of 'We've Got Tonite' filling the air, she extended her hand to the blonde.

"May I have this dance?" she asked, and Quinn returned her smile.

Santana wrapped her arms around the fair ones, and leant into the embrace, feeling the tender touch of her girlfriend's hands on her back. She closed her eyes and started humming her own version of the song, snuggling her face closer to Quinn's, who calmly sighed.

"I love dancing with you." Upon hearing this, the brunette's mouth curled up into a loving smile.

"So I've heard." Santana nuzzled her nose into the other girl's neck and felt her chuckle. They were swaying silently, lost in themselves and peaceful songs playing in the background.

"I can't express how beautiful you are," Santana purred huskily, inhaling the scent of vanilla. "Not just today. Not only on the surface."

Soft male voice was flowing through the room.

… _then I kiss you for the first time_ …

Quinn loudly exhaled. "But you can. You make me believe that every second we are together. You are the only one who manages that." The piano keys surged around them.

… _you know the me that  
no one else on earth knows _…

Everything in Santana seemed to be shaking. She clutched Quinn harder, and the blonde lifted her head a little.

"San, are you trembling?"

… _so I ask the question and it_

_hasn't left my mouth yet _…

The brunette absorbed the moment. Everything has led to this. Countless amounts of phone calls, ecstatic welcomes, secret dates, sweet nothings, various kisses, shy confessions, slow dances, passionate nights, and aching farewells. Not to mention heated arguments, angry sex, honest apologies, make-up visits, love songs, modest gifts, dirty messages, movie nights, awkward dinners with parents, and Facebook status changes.

Santana leant back and looked at Quinn in an assured manner.

"I have something for you." She spoke, and without leaving her eyes off the greenish ones, she reached to a hidden pocket in her dress, pulling out a small, square box. Quinn's jaw instantly dropped.

"To be honest, I wanted to make it more special. However cheesy it sounds, Quinn Fabray deserves a limousine service to the most luxurious restaurant in the city, where you could enjoy a dinner with a private concert of the orchestral fiddlers. You deserve a night chariot ride around the Central Park, with the white roses and fireworks. You deserve to return to the modern house on the suburbs, with a white picket fence and golden retriever running in the garden."

"But then I realized, that this is not the Quinn Fabray I fell in love with. The Quinn Fabray I fell in love with, likes glee clubs, shaken drinks, slowdancing with girls, cute sundresses, hipster music, and sophisticated literature. The Quinn Fabray I fell in love with, shows unexpectedly on the doorstep, gazes at the stars, geeks out about art, seduces with a glance, wins arguments with smart words, and lives to the fullest. The Quinn Fabray I fell in love with, steals my breath every second, inspires me to work hard, induces feelings that only exist in books, brings out the best in me, and makes me the luckiest person on this planet."

"I don't care for all the 'you are too young' talk. I am not a patient person and I knew for long enough that I want you to continue stealing my breath, inspiring me, driving me crazy, bringing out my best, and making me the luckiest person ever for the rest of my life."

"And I would love to be the person who does the same to you. I would love to be the reason of your happiness, and I would do whatever in my power to make you feel the way you make me feel every day. So…" She paused, took a deep breath and knelt down on one knee, opening the box. Her voice was filled with tenderness and anxiety. "Lucy Quinn Fabray, will you marry me?"

Quinn seemed to stop breathing and her face expression displayed something between symptoms of religious experience and emotional disturbance. Santana began to feel even more insecure, however, the blonde suddenly smiled, her eyes sparkling in the darkened suite.

"Yes."

At that moment, Santana swore to the heavens that this was the most significant and magnificent 'yes' in the history of humankind. Quinn's grin grew wider as she nodded her head in reassurance and presented her left hand. The brunette rose, and carefully put the ring on the forth finger, entwining her palm with the blonde's, who examined the band with joy. The ring was a white gold one with round emerald stone in the center and smaller diamonds on both sides. It fit perfectly.

"It's beautiful. It must have cost you a fortune." Quinn declared, sending a worried look in Santana's direction.

"Well, I was saving the money for some time, so don't mention it."

The golden-haired girl glanced once more at the ring and back at Santana. "How long?" She whispered, licking her lips. The brunette got distracted by the action and frowned in confusion at the question. "How long have you known you wanted to marry me someday?" Quinn clarified, earning a smile from Santana.

"Remember that important day when you showed up out of nowhere after the failed wedding?" The blonde nodded with a smirk. "That's when I knew. The moment you crossed the threshold, I knew it somewhere deep inside that you are the one."

Both of them fell silent. Music was still playing faintly, but it sounded distant and misty. Santana decided to continue. "In fact, I kinda wanted to propose on the anniversary of that day because I am such a sap, but I would probably die of further waiting. And the precise day we met I can't remember. So I was left with the V-day."

Quinn shook out of the reverie and before the brunette knew what was happening, she felt the gentlest pair of lips on hers. She kissed her back and moved as close as possible, with no intention of letting go. Santana felt a moist trace on her lower lip and within milliseconds they deepened the kiss, breathing the same air in slow exploration, emotions running through veins, taste filling the mind. The brunette wished she was kissed with such feeling for eternity. They parted with a last tender suck on the lip, both out of breath.

"You looked quite shocked when I pulled out the box. I knew I was taking a great chance, popping the question so early." Santana sensed Quinn giggle into her shoulder. "What?"

The blonde looked up and leant forehead against fiancée's, her extraordinary orbs locked with the chocolate ones.

"I do look like a girl who prefers waiting and playing it safe. Yet, don't forget whose idea it was in the first place. I used to be that girl. I guess I've changed. Or you have changed me." They exchanged smiles and resumed dancing. "I laughed because actually… you beat me to it. For the last couple of weeks I have been looking for the ring myself."

The Latina froze on the spot, not expecting such answer in the slightest.

"You said that you wanted to make me happy. You do. You make me feel like the only girl in world." She breathed, rubbing her nose against Santana's.

Quinn closed her eyes and with a dreamy smile swung to the strings of a guitar. Santana was still in the middle of processing the information, her heart bursting out with inexpressible emotions. She placed her lips to the girl's ear.

"I love you."

"So I've heard." The blonde echoed her words smiling. "I love you too. And I can't wait to make you officially mine." She added in a whisper.

"I have been yours for a very long time."


	3. Sparks Fly

**A/N: **A very short, fluffy chapter in the mood of New Year's Eve. I fuc*ed up chronology, I know. This is all in the same universe as before, though.

Disclaimer: RIB/FOX own everything. Unfortunately.

"Sparks Fly" belongs to one and only Taylor Swift.

* * *

_New Year's Eve 2013_

This was their first group celebration of New Year in New York. For the evening, Kurt, Rachel, and Santana chose a table in modern but inexpensive place in Midtown West which was promoting a huge party with drinks, dancing, and naturally fireworks. By then, everyone was in the apartment as Blaine and Quinn had arrived after Christmas, and Rachel's new crush was living close to them. Jackson was a ridiculously handsome young man from NYADA, but he was polite, fun, and everyone instantly grew fond of him. Even Santana, who found his witty comments hilarious.

Around 8 p.m. they were ready to leave together, already feeling the joy atmosphere and excitement in the air. It was cold outside, however, no one paid attention to the weather as they walked on the decorated streets, through enthusiastic crowds, bright lights, and loud music. The local was entirely prepared for the night as more and more people gathered in it, ready to bid farewells to the ending year with a bang.

In no time, the party was in full swing, songs flew through the speakers, people occupied the dance floor, and boys were bringing the drinks to the booth.

"Oh no, I've had enough. I want to remember something from this night, thank you very much." Santana yelled through the noise, pushing her glass away. Kurt eagerly took the beverage and linked the cup with Blaine. They all squeezed in the semicircular seat, raising the toasts and laughing between the dances. The room, although spacious, was hot, illuminated by party and string lights, shaken with thumping bass. Time was passing quickly.

"I wanna dance again!" Rachel screamed excitedly and grabbed Jackson's hand, pulling the laughing man on the dance floor. Kurt and Blaine were embracing, evidently plastered from the alcohol. Quinn laid her head on the brunette's shoulder, who clasped their hands.

"How are you feeling?" She asked gently, pulling the blond strands back from her face. Quinn smiled, looking up at Santana.

"I'm good. A little bit dizzy, but good."

"Do you want to dance some more?" she questioned, planting a soft kiss on her hand. The blonde chuckled.

"You only want to dance to make out." This time, Santana laughed.

"That's partially true, nonetheless, it doesn't answer my question."

"Come on, while I still have some energy."

They moved through the mass and became lost in the surrounding melody, singing along to the favorite tunes, and enjoying the party. During one of the slow dances, Santana checked the time.

"It's past eleven. You wanna get out of here?" She whispered in her girlfriend's ear and felt her nod in answer.

After letting intoxicated Kurt know of their plans, both of them went outdoors, and with entwined fingers strolled down 7th Avenue. The city was beautifully illuminated on every corner, people were crowding the streets, the music was filling the air, and the girls were absorbing everything with a smile. Random strangers were greeting them, shaking hands, and agitatedly shouting wishes. They reached Times Square and squeezed through the masses that occupied every inch of the intersection.

Standing in the middle, Quinn and Santana glanced at the countdown displayed on the main screen. The crowds were cheering and all the sounds blended into roaring excitement. The couple was pressed against each other, staring with sparkling eyes and soft smiles, oblivious to the world around them. 15 seconds left.

"What's your wish?" Santana asked, her breath hot on the blonde's face.

"I wish… to have such an amazing day every single day till the end of time. And you?"

"Then my wish is that your wish comes true."

Quinn grinned wider and their lips met in the sweetest of kisses as fireworks lightened the dark sky.

"Happy New Year." Santana mouthed before pressing her lips to Quinn's again.


	4. Someone That You're With

**A/N:** Jealousy, part I. Spot that Twilight reference?

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor the song „Someone That You're With" by Nickelback.

* * *

_Sometime in 2014…_

Santana felt uneasy. Every nerve in her body was shaking, her heart was racing, and she had to use all of her willpower to prevent her foot from tapping. Although it was a beautiful day and she was embracing Quinn on the park bench, she was wearing her best bitch glare. The blonde laid her head on Santana's shoulder and rested peacefully with closed eyes, oblivious to everything that happened around.

"I like it here. Do you?" She declared dreamily, playing with tan fingers.

"Too many people." Santana's tone was low and serious. Quinn chuckled.

"What are you saying. We rarely passed anyone."

"Well, it's still too many anyones for my liking." She lifted her head to look up at brunette's expression.

"Are you okay? Recently you have been acting weird." Santana sighed.

"I'm fine. Just… stressed out lately. Nothing big." She fixed her hazel eyes, which in the sun looked more like green, on her face in search for something, but the Latina remained neutral.

"Okay. You wanna eat now? I've read about this little café nearby, we could try it out." Santana silently nodded and they walked down through the park to the place that Quinn mentioned. Having settled in the booth by the wall, they were immediately approached by the waiter.

"Welcome, ladies. My name is Brad and I will be your waiter for this afternoon. Do you need more time or are you ready to order?" He was a tall brunet with thin lips, and Santana hated everything about him. Especially the way his blue eyes lingered on Quinn.

"I will have a Greek salad and strawberry milkshake. What for you, San?" The fair-haired girl asked casually, reading the menu.

"Chicken sandwich and soda." She replied, her gaze not leaving the man for a second. The waiter seemed to disregard her.

"Very well, I'll be back within minutes." He departed, sending Quinn a smile. Santana tore the napkin in her hands.

"S, what's with the face?" The pale girl grabbed her hand gently, getting her attention.

"I don't like how he is staring at you." Quinn knitted her brows in confusion and looked around the place.

"Who?"

"The waiter." She muttered between her clenched teeth. The blonde glanced at Brad who grinned at her again. "Asshole." Quinn rolled her eyes, looking back at riled Santana.

"He can stare and smile all that he wants, not gonna happen." She assured in a tender voice. The brunette's expression, however, did not soften, and she shook her head. "Really? He's just a guy whom I will probably never see again. Why are you upset?"

"I'm not. Not with you, anyway. I just don't like him." The tanned girl replied, peeking in the waiter's direction. Quinn sighed.

"Look at me. Look at me, S." She repeated, tilting Santana's head who reluctantly obeyed. "I'm here with you, right? You are a frustrating, impossible, yet my very own girlfriend that I chose to be with. I don't want anyone else. It is your hand that I'm holding and it is your eyes that I'm staring into. Nobody else's. Is that not enough?"

"Enough for now." Santana replied, feeling slightly calmer. A smirk appeared on Quinn's face.

"Or perhaps you want to make a spectacle?" She asked huskily, leaning forwards with hooded eyes.

"Now that's a reasonable solution." The dark-haired girl smiled before capturing Quinn's lips with hers. She instantly purred with contentment, wondering whether she would ever get bored with kissing her girlfriend. They were interrupted by a faint cough.

"Y-your food, ladies. Enjoy." The waiter awkwardly placed plates in front of them, and left without second glance. Santana was certain that she was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

* * *

The rest of the day passed leisurely. They went to the cinema, shared ice-cream in the favorite gelateria, and window shopped. The only thing that was bothering Santana was the non-understandable amount of messages that Quinn was receiving. She checked her phone every ten minutes and the brunette was constantly mulling over it on their way back to the apartment.

Taking advantage of Kurt and Rachel's absence, they settled down on the couch and played some movie, which was quickly forgotten as Santana placed her hand on Quinn's thigh. Within seconds they were heavily making out, clawing each other's clothes with fingers.

"God, you look so hot today. I had to restrain myself in that dark theater." Santana breathed between kisses, running her mouth down the blonde's neck.

"Only today?" She replied teasingly, leaning head back to give her girlfriend a better access.

"Uh-uh. You look hot every second, but that dress is driving me particularly crazy. I have so many dirty thoughts right now." Seeing that Quinn playfully raised an eyebrow, she continued. "Well, I always have them when I look at you, but that's not the point. Fuck, I still can't believe how lucky I am." She started sucking intensely on the pulse point.

"Keep it up and you will get even luckier." Santana moaned at the reply and in haste took of her chopped jacket. Her heart stopped when she caught Quinn biting her lip, before reattaching their mouths again.

The phone started ringing, but the brunette was too far gone to hear anything. She stopped only when she felt Quinn tugging on her top.

"Mmm… I got to answer that." Santana shook her head, placing a trail of kisses down her throat.

"No you don't."

"It might be important, babe."

"That is precisely why you shouldn't do that." The other girl giggled.

"Your logic is flawed, San. Seriously, it's probably someone from Yale. Give me a second." She let go of Santana's hips and stood up to get her purse. Santana watched her answer the call with a smile, feeling suddenly drained of optimism. She could not hear the exact words, but she gathered that Quinn was pacing around the kitchen, her voice cheerful and chatty. Not moving from the coach, she waited for her girlfriend to finish.

"Who was that?" She asked with a straight face, staring into space before her as the blonde entered the common room.

"It was Brandon. We have a project together and he asked about the materials." Quinn responded, putting her phone back to the purse. Santana looked at her, jaw tightened.

"Brandon? As in Brandon who texts you all the time, Brandon who calls you, Brandon who you go out with, Brandon who posts your pictures on the Internet?" She raised her voice slightly, feeling her blood boil. Quinn frowned at her.

"What is your problem, Santana? He is a Yale friend, we spend some time together, that's all."

"That's all? Really?!" She snarled and stood up abruptly, facing her. "Because from what I've seen, you two are practically married. How long this has been going on?" The blonde made a face.

"Are you… jealous?"

"No. Maybe. Yes. You didn't answer my question." She scowled while Quinn just widened her eyes.

"Are you serious?! Is this why you were so strange? God, Santana! How someone so confident can be so insecure at the same time!" The brunette placed her hands on the hips in indignation. "He is just a guy from my group at college. We do presentations from time to time, study with other friends, sometimes go out _together with people_! He knows that I have a girlfriend!" She burst out angrily, her hands gesturing in emotion.

"Yeah, right. You are way beyond friendly with each other. Excuse me while I won't buy the 'he is just a friend' card."

"Are you even listening to me? Everyone knows that you and I are together, everyone! In addition, he has a girlfriend whom I know, they are almost engaged." Santana expression remained grim and hostile. Quinn shook her head in disbelief.

"Why are you acting like this? What made you think that I'm cheating on you?"

"Quinn, we barely see each other these days. You are always at Yale, surrounded by who knows what friends, spending constantly time with them. You are beautiful, interesting, smart, and it's obvious that people want you. I can see that every time we go out." The blonde flinched seeing how upset Santana looked.

"And I've been freaking out about it since we got together. That one day you will say this lesbian thing is not for you. That one day you will realize that you can do so much better. Because you can, let's not fool ourselves. And the college is probably full of people on your level." She added, looking down at the floor. Various emotions were swirling inside her and none of them was positive.

"Have I done anything that could indicate that I'm interested in other people?"

"How the fuck would I know if you are miles away, having the time of your life!" Quinn clenched her teeth, evidently seething.

"We knew what we were getting into, we knew that it won't be easy. You think that it doesn't work both ways? That I am not worried that some NYC girl will sweep you off your feet while I am in the other state?" There was a hint of anguish in her tone. The brunette crossed her arms on chest, eyeing Quinn with awareness. "Because I am, but I trust you, and this is what relationships are about."

"Well, you know all about relationships, don't you. Every single one fell apart. Is it our turn now?" Santana retorted straight away, fuming. She frowned in realization of her words. Upon seeing angry Quinn storming in her direction, she squeezed her eyes, preparing for getting slapped across her face.

She wasn't. Instead, she felt being grabbed by her shirt and very roughly kissed. The tan girl opened carefully her eyes to peek at the scowling blonde.

"You are an idiot. I love you and I don't want to be with anyone else. Why don't you finally get it into your distrustful head." Quinn voiced sharply and kissed her again.

Santana's heart burst out of her chest with astonishment, joy, and love. Chaos overwhelmed her mind, but a single thought dominated over the other ones.

"_I'm gonna marry her one day."_


End file.
